


Teenage Dream

by the_charm_caster



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, Shy Charles, and blushing, and everyone likes him, and stammering, c'mon who doesnt like Charles?, dont judge me, lots of fluff, trigonometry jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_charm_caster/pseuds/the_charm_caster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nerdy and shy Charles Xavier gets a makeover from Raven and Emma, and suddenly everyone in the school has the hots for him. Erik Lehnsherr, one of the popular kids, always had a crush on him, but now that the whole school is suddenly proposing his Charles, he tries to prove his love.<br/>(Posting from the kink meme.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired from [this](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/9701.html?thread=21237989#t21237989) prompt. Also, my first time for this fandom, so please be gentle with me.
> 
> Title inspired by Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream", because yes, this song was meant for this fic...

“Hey, Xavier!”  
  
Nope. Nope. Nope.  
Not good.  
Not good at all.  
  
Charles had sighed, mustering up all his courage as he pushed open the gates to the corridor to his classroom. Another day in hell. But that’s okay, because he actually liked studying, the knowledge he received in this hellhole called high school. Not that he would ever announce that nerdy piece of information out loud, because frankly speaking, he believed that no one else in this entire three storey building ever came to school to study. Just high school stuff, you know? Parties, sex, fist-fights, et cetera, et cetera. Just a phase they had to go through.  
  
But not Charles. He wanted to study, to learn, to know. He was only stuck in this small school in this small town because of his mother’s job. He always dreamed of studying in Havard or Cambridge, just imagine the excellent quality of classes there! But that meant six more months of high school. Charles could tolerate that. He had been doing, all these years, after all.  
Keeping his head down, he had increased his pace, as he crossed a group of his classmates. He liked studying, so there must be a reason he thought high school was hell. It was, the people. He didn’t understand what their problem with him was. Sure, maybe he liked attending his classes, and spending his time in the library instead of bunking them and living in the canteen or football field. Maybe he didn’t understand the latest fashions and kept to his comfortable sweaters. Maybe he wasn’t interested in dating and having his heart broken. But he had done nothing to offend them! So why would anyone bother him? He could never understand people. So the best he could do was keep to himself.  
  
He thought that maybe, just maybe, they would just ignore him this time.  
  
Or not. It was Shaw’s voice, just one of the football jocks. Charles paused, and turned to them. Nothing good could come out of this.  
  
“Listen up, Charlie boy,” Shaw called again. He walked up to him, placing an arm around Charles’ petite frame.  
  
“Say, are you planning on joining the gym?” The jock asked, tone serious.  
  
“Wh-what?” Charles asked, confused.  
  
“Why, with all that weight lifting you’re doing, I think you’d win the Olympics!” Shaw said, pointing at the think volumes of Higher Mathematics and Genetics Vol. III that Charles was struggling to carry. Sure, those books were at least three inches thick, but that wasn’t such a big deal. The way Shaw said it though… Charles could almost taste the sneer. Shaw’s group of douchebags gave roaring laughter, as if they’d heard something really funny.  
  
“Actually I-” Charles gave an awkward half-laugh-half-shrug, “I uhm, have to go to, erm, you know, my class.” He squirmed out of Shaw’s grip, hurrying away from the group.  
  
“Leaving so soon, Charlie?” asked Janos. He was in front of Charles in an instant. “Aren’t you feeling hot? What’s up with this sweater of yours? Would you like me to strip it off you?” The athlete asked, winking.  
  
Charles stepped back, feeling a blush rising to his ears. “I-uh…”  
“Relax Janos!” came Shaw’s voice from behind him. “Give Xavier some time, let him finish his gym classes first. Maybe he’d have something to show off then?”  
  
More laughter, and Charles looked down, blushing hard. He needed to get out of there, and quickly.  
  
“Uh, huh, my apologies, but I really have to leave,” he mumbled, hurrying out of the way. The further he could go, the better. He moved ahead without looking back. Just as he was rounding a corner, sighing a breath of relief, he walked into someone.  
  
Paper flew out of his hands, the books slipped away, and he fell down, landing on top of his assailant. (It was his fault really, so maybe he was the assailant himself.) Ignoring the shouts of exclamation and surprises from around him, (and of course "watch where you walk, four-eyes!" and "there goes Xavier again!") he opened his eyes to face shocked, steely grey eyes looking into his.


	2. Chapter 2

Eric Lehnsherr yawned and rubbed his eyes. It was 7:30 in the morning for God's sake! Who the hell decided that schools should start at the light of dawn, just on the brink of summer and winter solstices, when three white birds gave cries of awakening and flew into the eastern mountains? (Okay maybe that was exaggerating, but, the point was clear.) Erik was not a morning person, and he _hated_ getting up in the morning.  
  
"Just six more months. Just six more months!" He mentally chanted as he shuffled through the corridors, stifling some yawns and bluntly expressing the others. He dragged his feet to the lockers, replying to some of the hi-s and hey-s from his classmates. Just. Six. More. Months. Wasn't there anything he could do about it?  
  
Murder the principal. Yes! He'd murder the principal, and then no one would have to get up early! And he'd do it coldly, slowly and painfully, letting Mr Paul bleed to death, just like all the students did, each day! Erik smirked, mentally laughing like a maniac, _MUAHAHAHAHA, lightening crackling in the background._  
And no one would find out...but maybe he'd announce it to the student body, and then he'd be crowned their king. He knew he was popular, but this would be different. _Bow to me, peasants!_ Erik imagined the scenario, arms wide open, all capes and crown. That's right, _Erik Lehnsherr, your new king!_  
  
He'll never be punished, and they all would bow to him. Never be caught-  
  
As he walked round the corner to his lockers, he found himself walking into somebody. Everything happened so quickly, and slowed by his sleepiness, Erik was flat on his back before he could even understand what was happening. He felt stuff, things, landing on him and all the breath being knocked out of his chest.  
 _Abort. Abort. Abort._ Was he already being punished for _thinking_ his crimes? He won't murder the principal, fine. Maybe Mr. Paul did have all spies all around, fucking telepathic spies, maybe.  
He groaned, feeling a _person_ on himself. Oh, great! He opened his eyes, and looked straight into two electric blue eyes, framed by soft brown locks that extended to tickle Erik's forehead. Erik paused, not recognising the face on top of him. He blinked, trying to clear his hazy mind.  
"Oh, dear Lord!" the smaller man cried out, and Erik instantly recognised the British accent, and oh, _oh!_  
 _Charles!_  
Suddenly, he was wide awake, very aware of everything around him. Including the body pressed into his. _Especially_ the body pressed into his. The sweet, woods-at-sunrise smell that drifted off from Charles. The high pitched squeak that Charles had let out when he crashed into Erik. The soft caress of his long, brown locks. The breath of his mouthwash that mingled into his own. He felt Charles struggling with his balance, trying to get up. Erik's arms moved on their own, holding onto Charles' arms.  
"Uhm..." he said, clearing his throat, because he, just seconds ago, he was still 93% asleep, and his voice was all sleep-laced. "Hey. Easy!"  
"Yuh-Yes of course!" Charles said, sitting up a bit, (on Erik really!!) pulling out of Erik's hands. He pushed his hair out of his eyes, running a hand through it awkwardly. Erik wanted to swat his hand away and comb his own fingers through the soft locks. But he shook that thought away, trying to focus on what Charles was saying.  
  
Well, that's why he didn't recognise Charles before, he'd rarely seen him without his king-kong sized glasses. And now, without them, he looked like an angel, with long flowing hair, and sapphire blue eyes, and white, creamy skin...and woah, those red lips, Erik tried his best to focus on the words the lips were forming...without any success...

* * *

_Panic. Panic. Panic. Brain now entering panic mode. All possible forms of communication skills shutting down, level of blood rising on facial area, resulting in Scarlett colouring..._  
  
Charles' heart stopped, he could actually feel his brain shutting down. He walked into Erik Lehnsherr. He walked into _Erik Lehnsherr!_ People just don't walk into Erik Lehnsherr! People bow down and fall to their knees to Erik Lehnsherr, hoping that he would spare a look to them, so that all their children and grandchildren lived happy lives forever!  
He was one of the coolest, greatest, funniest, most handsome, straight-out-of-Calvin-Klein-magazine, so-hot-that-you-could-bake-bread-on-him guys of the school, the entire town maybe... And Charles was sitting on top of him (totally not like _that_ ) and his _Genetics Vol. III_ and _Higher Mathematics_ were probably crushing the life out of him, and so Charles let out a string of apologies and "this is probably not a good day," and "I am so sorry!" and maybe even "please dont execute me!"  
He crawled away from Erik, picking up of one of his books, (Erik had picked up the other one, and God, when did he have the time to get up _and_ pick up Charles' book _and_ look so good!) Charles kept on apologising, ignoring everyone else looking at him, and it was only when Erik grabbed his forearm (again) that he realised that Erik was saying something.  
"W-What?" He blinked.  
"That's okay. Charles, it was probably my fault, anyways," Erik was laughing, and talking all the blame on himself and handing him his glasses and _what-?_  
"Huh?" Charles asked again, putting on his glasses to make sure he wasn't seeing wrong.  
"It's a Monday, and I over-slept, and was quiet asleep till a few minutes ago, so I guess I didn't see you coming," Erik gave him a sheepish grin, and Charles wasn't sure what was going on.  
"Here," Erik handed him the _Higher Mathematics_ , and _wow!_ His eyes had a hint of blue and green and grey and- so many colours! Charles was busy admiring the artwork that was Erik's eyes so much that when their fingers brushed around the book, he was taken back by surprise and he let go off the book, dropping it straight on Erik's feet!  
  
He watched Erik howl in pain and clutch his abused foot.  
"Sorry, _damnit_ , I am so sorry, Erik!" Charles squeaked, holding Erik by his shoulders to stop him from jumping around like the Easter bunny. But he still had the other book in his hand, and he wasn't sure what was he supposed to do. Like, could he even _touch_ Erik Lehnsherr without burning himself?  
"That's okay, " Erik was saying, And suddenly there were people between him and Erik. Charles recognised Alex, Sean and Angel, the people with whom Erik hanged out. They ran to him, asking if he was okay and what really happened.  
"Stay away, dweeb!" Alex was saying, pushing him away.  
"Yeah, Xavier's! Buzz off!" Angel chided.  
"But I was only trying to-" he started, but he was cut off by Sean.  
"-Kill Erik??" The young man asked.  
No. _Help._ But Charles knew better than to answer these stuck up kids. He quietly retrieved his books and hurried away to his class.  
Erik looked up, but Charles was gone before he could say something. His eyes followed the slender brunette running away till he disappeared among the crowd of teens that were now filling in the corridor. He sighed, wishing he had more time to talk with him.  
His friends might not have noticed, but the look of longing did not escape the icy blue eyes of Emma Frost, who was standing beside her locker, watching the entire scene carefully.


	3. Chapter 3

"Woah, guys! Raven?" Charles asked as he was cornered by his cousin and her best friend. He had tried his level best to prevent them from dragging him into the Frost mansion, but in vain.

"No, no, no! You don't get to ask questions, Xavier," Raven said. "Just answer her," she pointed to Emma Frost, and pushed Charles down into a big plush chair.  
Charles audibly swallowed. True, he knew Raven and Emma from his childhood days, but sometimes Frost scared him. _Some even said that she was the Snow queen_ , straight out from Narnia, but that was just saying. He gathered up his courage, trying to be resolute. If he didn't get any answers, he wouldn't give either. At least, _try not to_ , he thought as Emma's cold gaze pierced his.

"So, Charles, sweetheart, how many girlfriends did you have?" Emma asked, leaning onto his chair.

"Um, _what_?" Charles asked, "what's _that_ got to do with anything?"

"No questions, Charles!" Raven interrupted. "Answer!"

"Erm...fine! Sin 0 degrees," he answered, smugly. Finally, some use of studying trigonometry.

"What? That's not fair!" Raven exclaimed. "No, Charles, no mathematics here. Just tell me quickly." But Charles shook his head, crossing his arms around him.

"Relax, Raven. I know that," Emma interrupted, smiling devilishly.

Charles' smile faltered, but maybe, just maybe, Emma was kidding. Why would she know trigonometry after all?

"Because duh, I had had _Trigonometry 101_ as well, remember?" Emma answered, almost telepathically.

 _Oh._ Well, at least Raven didn't have to know that.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Emma asked, leaning closer to Charles' face. "How many boyfriends, Charles?"

Charles blushed, but he wasn't sure whether it was because of Emma's proximity or because of the question. How did she-?

The question must have showed on Charles' face, (or maybe Emma was really telepathic,) because soon Emma answered with a click of her tongue, saying, "oh c'mon Charles. I know everything about everyone...so. How many boyfriends?"

"Cos 90 degrees?" Charles offered weakly.

"Hmmm okay," she said, calculating, while Raven gave a frustrated glare. Then Emma dragged his cousin to the corner, saying 'we need to finalize _the plan_ , and there was some whisperings and shrieking and _are you sure about this_ and _OhMyGod really_?Then Emma confidently strutted back to Charles, and Raven followed.

"Now sweetie, we need you to strip," Emma ordered, and with a " _what, are you crazy_?" that was few octaves too high, Charles ran for the door. He was blocked by a young man, dressed in professional clothes. Charles pleaded him, but the man simply carried him back to the plush chair.

"Oh, thank you Jack," Emma nodded to the butler. Then she ordered him to strip off Charles's clothes. Another maid joined him, holding down Charles.

"This is preposterous!" Charles shrieked, "Raven!"

"Sorry, Charles," Raven gave an apologetic smile. "But that sweater has to go. Seriously, it's big enough to fit two people."

"Ooh, I bet that's what you planned for _Erik_ ,did you not Charles?" Emma asked, and watched the blush physically paint Charles' ears and neck.

"What?" He asked, turning away.

"C'mon, someone's got the hots for Erik Lehnsherr, has he not?" Raven asked, wriggling her eyebrows.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Charles stammered. "Why are you doing this?"

"Listen Xavier," Emma said, leaning close again. "It's because of you I've passed in tortures known as chemistry and physics in middle school. Now I want to return the favour, organising what you call you social life. So _please_ shut up, and let my team do their work."

Charles knew he was missing something, but he somehow felt that it wasn't important right now. Instead there were more pressing issues. "Team?" He asked.  
Emma nodded, waving her hand to let her _team_ in. "Charles, you've already met Jack and Suzy," she said, pointing to the two assailants-slash-domestic helpers, who  
had held him down, stopping him from escaping. "Meet Andrea and Sam, my grooming team, Rose from hair dressing, and Ben, my designer. Now sit back and relax, and let my team work on you," she said as Sam tilted back Charles' chair, inspecting his client.

Minutes passed by, and soon, the left wing of the Frost mansion was filled up with busy noises. Among the occasional buzzing of blow-driers and razors, and some out of rhythm song that Charles did not recognise, there was, of course, arguments and screaming as well.  
.  
.  
.  
"But I have to um...you know! Go to my tutions!"  
"No."  
"Can I go to the washroom?"  
"No."  
"I'm hungry?"

"Shut up, Charles."  
.  
.  
.  
"Can we dye your hair blonde?"  
"What! Get away from me!"  
"Hmm...maybe black?"  
"Raven, take this, this _thing_ away from me!"  
"That's okay, Rose. Maybe some reddish highlights?"  
"Hey! I'll... I'll murder you."  
"I'd say blue."  
"No one asked, Emma!"  
.  
.  
.  
"No! Don't cut them!"  
"Shut up Charles, you look like a sheepdog!"  
"But, my hair-"  
"Nope. Now, stop squirming!"  
.  
.  
.  
" _Yeowch!!_ Why do you have to wax my arms again?"  
"Ah, so that you look like a model."  
"But Andrea, I _don't_ want to look like a model."  
.  
.  
.  
"Uh, Emma, can you please, please stop Ben from touching me everywhere?"  
"But I'm just taking the measurements, Sir."  
.  
.  
.  
"No, what? NO! I'm sorry, but I'm really afraid of putting anything into my eye. Nope, sorry, I just can't...hey what are you all-geAhh!"  
Charles cried as he was literally held down by three people, Ben almost straddling him to put the lens in.  
"I'll call the police, and file a case against you. All of you," Charles warned, feeling exhausted.  
.  
.  
.  
"What do you think, Raven, leather jackets or sweatshirt?"  
"What? Not shirtless, Emma?"  
"Hmm...That's a brilliant idea!"  
" _What_?"  
.  
.  
.  
"Great job team, this is the best of you guys! Seriously, I love you all," Emma said, as her team left. Raven stood there, adoring her cousin, while Charles tried to recognise the reflection staring back from the mirror.

The truth was, Erik was a childhood friend of Emma's. Though they didn't hang out presently, they still were good friends indeed. The kind who met up once in a while, talked about stuff.

Erik might not have directly told about Charles, but Emma knew that Lehnsherr liked Charles, (hello, _Miss Gossip_ award?)

Before, Emma wasn't sure why, but now, as she scrutinised Charles's new look, she understood the attraction of the blue eyes and red lips. Erik, like Charles, had helped out Emma more than once. So why not return the favour? Plus, Raven was her best friend, and she knew Charles. And the way Charles blushed each time they talked about Erik, she knew that Charles felt the same. (Oh, and Raven had confirmed that too.)

And, who didn't like a cheesy romance once in a while? Maybe what Charles lacked was confidence. Emma thought that maybe if she changed his looks, people would accept him more, let him mingle with them, let him open up.

She knew her plan was gonna work. Now all she had to do, was wait for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sin 0 = cos 90 = 0  
> ...just sharing the nerdiness of the joy called mathematics *makes puking noises*


	4. Chapter 4

"Did you hear about the new kid?" Moira was saying to one of her friends, giggling very loudly for 7:30 in the morning.

"Oh yes, have you seen him?" Someone replied. "He is like, _so_ hot, those blue eyes, and red lips. OhMyGod!" There was some high pitched shrieking.

"I know, totally my type, he isn't much tall, so he'd look perfect with me." Someone else said.

"Hey! I saw him first! He's mine!" Another girl objected.

"But just...have you _seen_ him?" Some one sighed. "He's straight out from Hollywood!" There was some more shrieking and giggling, and Erik couldn't take it anymore.

He closed his locker loudly, hoping to shut up the girls. He was living on three hours of sleep in forty eight hours, and fine, maybe, _maybe_ this wasn't such a great idea after all.

Maybe it was, and he could just sleepwalk the entire day. Barely opening one eye, Erik ignored the girls and tried to make way to the first class of the day. Maybe he could walk with one eye closed. Or both eyes, he thought, feeling sleep take over, as he shuffled forward. That's okay, he won't fall asleep walking.

 _Ah,_ sleep was such a nice idea right now. Maybe he should ignore a few classes and sleep somewhere. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea, he thought, head drooping. He pushed the edges of his palms over his eyes, relishing the pressure. Yes, it was not safe walking with your eyes closed, but Erik just didn't care. Nobody dared cross his paths anyways. _They'd just make way for him._ Because of course...sleep was good, that's all he knew, forgetting what he was thinking a few seconds ago,  
Erik knew that his mind wasn't functioning properly yet. He rubbed at his temples, hurrying to his class, still deciding whether he should attend them or not. Maybe he-  
Erik was interrupted in thought process, when yet again, he walked into somebody. This time though, he was walking with extra force, and before he could stop himself, he fell down upon the other person, his brain rattling in the process.

Erik clicked his tongue. _Who dared walk into him?_

He opened his eyes, and once again, they were met by electric blue eyes.

"Oh, dear," Charles breathed, and Erik noticed how close their lips were.

"Charles!" Erik said, feeling hazy. Because of course, only Charles could walk into him (again), for two adjacent days! Only Charles could look this edible at seven thirty in the morning. And wait, was something different about him?

"Hello, Erik," Charles said, lips curving around the corners.

"Hey um," Erik frowned, despite the smile tugging at his lips. Something was different, the way Charles was talking, but Erik couldn't put a finger on it. The fragrance was the same, the eyes were the same, the accent was the same...yet something was not right.

"I, uh, am sorry," _-again,_ Erik said, getting up. Oh, and that's when he noticed Charles' appearance. The young Brit had risen up to his elbows, (still very much on display for Erik). He wasn't wearing his bright sweaters anymore, but a dark blue tee, with a whitish collar sticking out, and a black jacket that highlighted his blue eyes. His messenger bag was replaced by a backpack, and his glasses were nowhere to be seen. His hair was much shorter, almost _shining,_ and mussed in that just-out-of-sleep look, making him a few degrees hotter than most of the guys in the school.

Erik blinked, not sure what he was seeing. He frowned, tilting his head.

"Charles?" He asked again.

Charles gave a small shrug, reaching out with one hand, eyes blinking. That pushed Erik's senses, and he reached down to pull Charles up to his feet.

"Wow, you look...look so...um, Wow," Erik mumbled, not knowing what he was saying.

Some things were still the same. Like the blush that painted Charles' face, all across his cheeks, and nose, and down his neck, which was now clearly visible because his hair was gone, and Erik wasn't sure whether he was awake or still dreaming.

Charles diverted his eyes for a second, and then looked back to Erik, still smiling softly. Then he bit his lower lip, and for a second, Erik _desperately_ wanted to kiss him.

Erik had to do something soon, before he blurted out stupid things, or did stupid things. So he said, "Sorry for walking into you," unsure whether he really was sorry. Turns out, he wasn't apologetic even a bit.

"That's alright, darling. It was my fault as well, I wasn't watching where I was going," Charles said, and then he might've said something else as well. But Erik wasn't listening, because his heart had skipped a beat on the word _darling,_ and he couldn't avert his eyes away from those luscious lips, even if he tried to.

And then Charles was looking at him, as if expecting Erik to give a reply. Erik opened his mouth, but he wasn't sure what was he supposed to say. And then the bell rang, saving him from embarrassment.

"Well," Charles smiled, "look at that. I'm going to be late if I don't run. See you later, Erik," he said, swinging his backpack over his shoulder, and turning. He jogged away, and stopped only at the end of the corridor to wave goodbye.

Erik numbly raised his hand to return the gesture, aware of all the eyes staring at him. Woah! What just _happened_? 

* * *

Emma wriggled an eyebrow, a devilish smile on her face. Raven from the other side of the corridor, winked back.


	5. Chapter 5

_Breathe, Charles. Just breathe._

Charles knew he was hyperventilating. He was also aware of all the eyes on him, so, instead of going to his usual Math class, he ran to the men's washroom. Luckily, he found it empty. He walked to the mirrors, hands resting on the sink.

He just walked into Erik Lehnsherr. _Again._ But Erik felt nice, all carved and hard against his chest. And he smelt nice too, some spicy, exotic taste that he didn't recognise. And the way he was looking at him! Charles remembered, blushing again, as he replayed the morning.

He had walked into school, reciting Emma's tips like a mantra.

_Ignore everyone, and move like you know a big secret._

So he had stayed quiet, even when he knew everyone was looking at him.

_Keep your head high, and walk slowly. Or else you'd trip and fall, Charles._

Charles swallowed, doing his best to follow her instructions. But it was hard to ignore everyone's gazes when he _knew_ they were looking at him. And pointing at him. And talking about him. By the time he reached his locker, he was aware of the small group of girls that had gathered behind him.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face them.

"Hi, there," one of them said, and Charles recognised the blonde from his English class. He could see her heavy makeup and cleavage because of her low cut top, and Charles raised an eyebrow. Wasn't this against the dress code?

"I'm Stacey," she said, and before she could say anything else, "and I'm Mia," said another Brunette. Then there were more introductions, and Charles struggled to maintain a straight face.

_Don't talk much, and when you do, talk like you're...talking to puppies and kittens. Or even books. Yes! Books! I know you love your books, Charles. So talk like you're talking to an age old book, yes?_

"Nice to meet all of you, sweethearts," Charles said, and okay. Maybe that sounded too much like Emma, so he'd have to think about new endearments.

One of the girls gave a strangled whimper, and Charles caught a girl with short dyed bangs mouthing _'he's British, OMG!'_ to one of her friends.

"So... Are you new here?" The brunette asked. Charles wasn't sure what to say. If he said no, then that meant he'd have to reveal that he was the boring, old Charles, the one with glasses and sweaters, and he had a feeling that Emma wouldn't be happy about it. But if he said no, he'd be lying.

Fortunately, the blonde, Stacey, was it? Stacey interrupted her, saying, "Duh, have you seen him before, doofus? That obviously means he's new!"

Charles tilted his head. Okay, that was acceptable, currently.

_Remember, books and puppies._

"Excuse me, ladies. But I have to go now. Maybe we could chat later?" He said, and without waiting for their replies, fled from the small group. He heard someone say, "wait, we didn't catch your name," but Charles had no intention of staying. He ignored them, hurrying away.

Woah. They didn't recognise him? They couldn't recognise him! Would no one regonise him? He saw Hank in front of him. As soon as their eyes met, Charles opened his mouth to call out to him, but Hank's eyes widened and he turned away, moving in the opposite direction.

Ok. Great. Did he not recognise him? Not even his best friend recognised him? What was he supposed to do? Would the teachers recognise him? And then, a strange thought occurred to him.

Would _Erik_ recognise him?

Gripping his bag tightly, which he still wasn't accustomed to, he walked to his class, trying to maintain his postures and confidence. He tried to ignore the way some people were staring at him with their mouths wide open. The way some people did double take.

_Keep calm Charles. I don't know, recite the Periodic table if you're tensed, okay?_

Okay. Charles thought. He knew it was ridiculous...but, periodic table, yes?

Hydrogen -Helium -Lithium -Beryllium -Boron -

Good, just keep getting distracted. Charles started to calm down. And that's when he walked into Erik.

Erik's body was a nice weight on top of him. It was the smouldering gaze of his, that made Charles very self-aware. And then, even after pulling him up, Erik was gaping at Charles, and Charles wasn't sure what to do.

But then, there was this small, warm feeling in his chest. Erik _had_ recognised him! Of all people, _Erik Lehnsherr_ recognised him!  
Erik apologised, and that gave Charles something to talk about. Oh, that's when he called Erik _darling_ , and maybe it was too much(?) But it just felt right, and he wanted to do it again.

The bell rang, and was that disappointment or relief on Erik's face? Charles didn't know that, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to take it anymore. No more in the piercing gaze of Erik Lehnsherr, the way he grey eyes seemed to pierce straight through Charles' soul! And so, giving a weak goodbye, he ran away.  
And here he was, alone in the washroom.

Collecting himself, Charles looked at his watch. Great, he was already ten minutes late for the first class.

Inspite of all that, a stupid smile remained on his face for the rest of the day. _Erik had recognised him. And maybe even appreciated him._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing jealous!Erik, because why not?

Erik sighed, looking out of the window. He didn’t feel like concentrating on another stupid lecture. Well, his mind was diverted anyways. Almost as if Charles was a telepath, just, _always_ present in his mind.

It was hard to believe that this was the same old Charles. What the _fuck_ happened to him? Not that Erik wouldn’t agree that this Charles was totally _begging_ him to take him against the lockers, but Erik liked the old Charles nonetheless. Maybe he just liked shorter, adorable people with stupid, floppy brown hair and electric blue eyes and British accents. (Or maybe that was just Charles?) Also, maybe he was a bit, just a teeny, tiny bit sapiosexual. And it was already hard to endure when Charles looked like a dork, with big sweaters, and even bigger glasses.

But now here was Charles, somewhy, dressed to kill, and chatting with girls, and calling Erik _darling_ of all things, and Erik wasn’t sure how to react.

He snapped back to reality when he saw said subject of torture on the field below. He must be having a free period. Even with the open window, Erik couldn’t listen to what Charles and the _ugh_ , group of girls were talking about, because he was on the third floor. Whatever.

The group stopped, and Charles had his back towards Erik. The girls were staring at him, surprised by something he’d said, Erik guessed. Charles shoved his hands in his pockets, rolling on his heels and shrugging his shoulders. Erik could almost see his sheepish grin in his mind.

And then, he could almost hear the girls screaming, what sounded like _Charles!?_ And while Charles nervously (Erik knew he did that when he was nervous) scratched his head, one of the blondes fainted, and fell down _on top of Charles._ Erik clenched his fists, watching helplessly as Charles stumbled for his balance, and then helped the chick, dragging her to the nurse, probably.

Erik sighed. _Great!_ Charles probably had time for the whole school, but him. He had been trying to talk to Charles for the two whole days, but in vain. Ever since Charles had this “makeover” of his, he somehow turned into an overnight celebrity.

He was almost successful once yesterday, when he found Charles in front of him while he was drifting half-asleep from one damned classroom to another.

* * *

 

“Oh, hello, Erik,” Charles happily greeted him, with wide eyes, and a wide smile.

“Charles,” was all Erik managed to get out, before a group of girls came, all _Ooh Charles! Ohh Charles!_ grabbed him by each of his arms, and dragged him away, laughing and giggling, and Charles was _blushing_ and he shot an apologetic look towards Erik, and all Erik did was stare and frown. And then frown some more.

There was something Erik had _really_ wanted to say.

* * *

Then there was today, during lunch, when he found himself behind Charles in the line.

“Charles!” Erik bit his tongue before he said something stupid like _fancy seeing you here,_ or _come here often?_

Charles turned towards him, and Erik could see the realization washing over his face. Charles broke into a wide grin, and his eyebrows shot up.

“Well, hello again, my friend,” Charles smiled, to which Erik smiled back. But okay, fine, there was this tiny hint of disappointment he felt. What? No more darlings, were they?

“So, how’s everything going?” Erik asked lamely, instead of saying what he had planned on saying.

Charles huffed out a laugh, “…different, I’d say.”

_Damnit Lehnsherr! Just ask him already!_

“Oh, okay.”  
He took a silent breath as Charles filled his tray.

_Ask him. Erik Lehnsherr. Ask him._

“So Charles…will you, um. You know, uhh,” Erik gritted his teeth. “Will you help me with the Math homework?”

_Awesome._

He saw Charles frowning, but maybe that was amusement? Erik picked up something absently for his tray, ignoring Charles, avoiding his eyes.

“Of course I would, _love,_ ” Charles said, and okay, maybe this wasn’t such a vain attempt now, was it? Erik smiled up to him, and was about to ask him to join his table, (and say what he _really_ wanted to say,) but then, a group of boys walked up to them. And they too, all _Ooh Charles! Ohh Charles!_ somehow managed to pull Charles away towards their own table.

Charles shot back a small “goodbye!” to Erik.

* * *

Erik didn’t understand what was wrong with him. He never got nervous around people. He never stammered. He was never left speechless. And he certainly did _not_ ask help for Math homework when he wanted someone to come to the dance with him.

The annual dance was literally around the corner, and even with the stupid theme the headmaster had come up with this time, Erik was actually looking forward to it. (Now, not because of the theme; _be true to yourself, children, and dress up like the one you admire, the one you want to become, your inspiration, your future self, anything, kids_! Erik knew that all the students had mentally signed a petition to kill Mr. Paul then and there. This was the Annual Dance, not a fancy dress competition! Oh, and that’s when Mr. Paul even announced awards for the _best dressed,_ and everyone lost it.)

This was their last year together, and Erik really had wanted to ask Charles out. He wasn’t sure how to do it, but the dance seemed like a good idea. But that’s when Charles decided to become Tom Cruise, and suddenly become very busy and popular, giving Erik no chance to seek him out.

He sighed again. Where was Charles now when Erik _needed_ him to walk into him? Hell, he’d even dress up in drag, some ginger wig and laced stockings, if that meant that Charles would just _talk_ to him. (Maybe not, though.)

* * *

Charles’ blue-eyed charms didn’t pardon the teachers either. Charles, who was so humble, and so polite, and so hard-working, and so adorable, and now, so pretty too. All the female teachers went _Ooh Charles! Ohh Charles!_ Even the male ones asked for his opinions, and talked to him during class, going all _Okay, Xavier?_ and _What do you think, Xavier?_ They all had started to excuse him, and pardon him, and even let him sleep in class once! And it was just _two_ days since Charles-the-Oxford-boy had become Charles-the-Made-in-Brazil-model.

Erik gritted his teeth again. And why did _Charles_ have to be so nice and reply back so properly? Why did he have to smile and nod, and greet them, and answer all their questions, and know everything, inlcuding the mass of the sun, and the depth of the Pacific?

The only teacher who seemed to be unaffected was Mr. Logan. But then again, truly speaking, Mr Logan never seemed to be affected by anything that went around him.  
So that’s why when he was discussing the rules if integrating logarithmic and exponential functions, Erik thought it was a good idea to pass a note to Charles. And please, Charles was going to help him with the homework (Erik rolled his eyes at his stupidity), even if he didn’t pay attention to the Math class, (which was, by the way, the last class of the day, and everyone was too damned tired to focus on it anyways. Well everyone except Charles.)

Mr Logan had superhuman senses, Erik was sure of it now, because there is no way someone could even _see_ Erik passing the small note. The grumpy man took long strides, and snatched the piece of paper just before it reached Charles, muttering “okay, gimme that, bub.”

He read the note, and Erik banged his head on desk, not wanting to see his reaction. He didn’t raise his head, even when Logan called him out.

“Lehnsherr! Xavier! Detention after class.”


	7. Chapter 7

Logan was not a very social person, he'd admit that. But seriously, he couldn't take it anymore. Xavier was his favourite student, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. And Lehnsherr, well, he was good, sort of. But the googly eyes they made at each other, was too much for Logan to bear. Seriously, he could feel their unrequited love-crush-tension -whatever it was, whatever the kids these days call it- yeah, Logan could _feel_ it come off them like bright rays of sunshine and rainbows, aimed directly at him, and if he had to see one of them steal a glance at the other for one more time, he was sure he'd puke, right there, in front of the class.

Okay, so maybe he called them both to detention so that they could solve whatever it was between them. Okay, fine, so maybe he did want to help them, but he would deny this side of his to his grave.

Yeah, so he didn't want two of his brightest students to get distracted anymore and flunk. So, what? Sue him! He'd never admit it out loud that he was actively talking part in a high school love story, even if it meant he'd have to remove his head.

He dragged both of his students to the library. "The _Mathematics_ section needs cleaning. Now, get to work, idiots!" He said roughly, and walked back to his desk, without glancing back twice.

* * *

Charles was confused. He'd never been punished, not even once. And now, here he was, in detention, cleaning the library as his punishment, when all he did was to _try_ to read a note being passed to him. And he didn't even read it!

So he should've been feeling angry, frustrated, sad, maybe. Not have his heart hammering in his chest as their teacher dragged them both to the library. And then he ordered them to clean and rearrange the entire Mathematics section. Which would take the entire afternoon.

Which meant, an entire afternoon with Erik Lehnsherr (!) Alone. In the library. (Okay, maybe not alone, since a few kids were still reading, here and there…but that was endurable.)

And now Charles wanted to impress him, because yeah, he was such an intimidating presence. Erik was finally paying attention to him, now that Charles was no longer the geek-head Charlie, but the um, _new_ Charles, and he didn’t want to waste his opportunity.

Luck was on his side this time, because this was the library of all places. He’d spent 97% of his middle school here itself, so yeah, he remembered where every single book was supposed to go, unless one of the _hipster_ kids had messed them up.

Erik on the other hand, looked like a lost kitten on the highway or something. As if he’d never stepped in the library before.

“Umm, that way, darling,” Charles said, and _great!_ His awkwardness was coming back. He could feel it. Why was his awkwardness back again? It always happened around Erik. Like he couldn’t pretend anymore.

_No Charles. Erik doesn’t like the dork Charles. If you want to impress him, you have to be cool and hip._

So he forced back a smile, walking quickly to the destination. The Mathematics section was two whole shelves, with some books as thick as Charles’ wrist. Or Erik’s p- wait, what?

Charles blushed at his thoughts. What the _hell_ was he thinking? He blinked, trying to clear his head.

He looked at Erik, who was scaling the shelves as if it was Mount Everest.

“Would it be okay if I got on top?” Charles asked, and Erik snapped his head to him, and _okay,_ that’s not how he had framed the question. “I mean, I got the top section clear?” He babbled hurriedly, pointing to the small ladder.

_Really Charles, amazing choice of vocabulary!_

 

Erik nodded, but his eyes seemed out of focus.

And so Charles got on top, _of the ladder,_ pulling out the dusty volumes. He sneaked a few glances down, where Erik was squatting, pulling out books from his section as well.

Charles climbed down carefully, setting the huge pile of books on the table, next to Erik’s. He then repeated the whole procedure again. Only this time, Erik was setting down his pile at the same time, and their hands brushed, and Erik looked up to him like he wanted to say something. But he didn’t, and Charles pulled back his hand, apologizing, and looking away, and getting back to his ladder with a duster.

But woah, his hand sure was warm, and Charles wanted to touch him again. Mr Logan was his favourite teacher now! He started dusting off the shelf, wiping the corners. His eyes spotted a dust bunny in the farthest corner, and okay, maybe if he just stretched some more, he could reach it. He didn’t want Erik to think he was useless, not able to clean a meager shelf by himself.

He grabbed the shelf with one hand, standing on the tip of his toes on the little ladder. _Just a little more_ , and he was almost there, stretching just a little _more,_ when the stepladder gave away, and he went scrambling down.

* * *

Honestly speaking? Erik had never been to the library before. He was naturally good in Physics, and never showed enough interest in other subjects to actually need to go the library.

It was like, stepping into another dimension. The air smelt different, the noises were dissimilar to what he was used to. There was this, this tang in the air…which reminded him of Charles. The whole atmosphere reminded him of Charles. The old Charles, whatsoever.

And then there was the Mathematics section, and yeah, that was the Great Wall of China alright. Because all those shelves would take _years_ to clean. What sort of punishment was this?

And then he heard Charles saying that he wanted to get _on top_ and woah! That seemed like a good idea. Only then, Charles amended his statement, and reality sank in.

Okay, so his position was a good consolation, nonetheless. The view from down here was _great,_ including that occasional piece of skin above his waist band that showed whenever Charles stretched. Or the fact that when he stood beside Charles’ ladder, he was face to face with Charles’ crotch.

So maybe Erik was enjoying himself when he placed the third stack of books on the table, balancing them like tetris. He stood near the ladder, examining his work; he was almost done with the bottom-most shelf. Now he needed the duster and-

His thoughts were interrupted as he got an armful of Charles, without any prelude.

It was all like they showed in the chick flicks. The ladder-thing just wobbled and gave away and before Erik could do anything, Charles just _fell on him_ and he had no other option but to hold onto whatever his hands found, encircling around Charles’ waist, the brunette’s arms gripping tightly onto his arms.

And just like the movies they stood, into each other’s arms, while time slowed down and the dust particles swam in the afternoon sun. It was too unrealistic and straight-out-of-a-disney-movie for Erik, but then again, the events from the past two days weren’t much real either, so he wouldn’t complain.

Charles’ hair was tousled and he had some blackish-dust-mark-something on his cheek, which Erik desperately wanted to brush off. But given their current positions, all he could do was stare into those blue eyes. And woah! Had they always been this _electric_ blue or were the lens amplifying their hue?

Charles’ lips were red, so _red_ , probably because he’d been worrying them, and for a second Erik felt that his old Charles was back. Would it be okay if he just kissed him? Of course it would be…right? Erik just had to cover the small distance between them, the mere _inches_ that kept them apart. Because Charles had cherry red lips, and lips so red that he could simply devour them and-

“Uhhm?” A gentle voice interrupted them, and Charles sprang away like he’d been tased. Erik pointed a death glare to the owner of the voice, which was Moira, if he recalled correctly.

“Erik, um, Mr. Logan has called you to his office,” she said, looking here and there, and avoiding his glare. He nodded roughly, and looked back at Charles, who was avoiding his gaze as well, blushing scarlet.

Fine. It wouldn’t take much time…He hurried out to Logan’s office, hoping he could continue what he’d wanted to do.

The Math teacher simply huffed and handed him a few more books to be returned to the library, and good _Lord!_ They were heavy. No wonder Charles had a fit body; these books were perfect gym materials, and Charles carried them around like a mother monkey carried her children.

Oh, Charles reminded him something. Maybe he could finally ask Charles about the dance. Yeah, that would be a good idea, now that they were alone, (except for a few obstacles like Moira).

Erik walked back to the Math section, but found it deserted. He placed his dumbbells (books) down, looking for any hint of brown hair. Then he heard it, laughter coming from somewhere nearby, and followed it. He could hear the voices, muffled, coming from the other side of the shelf.

“Thank you so much, Charles! I was thinking I wont ever find it, but you did it!”

“Oh, no, that’s alright, _love._ Also, there are other books in the catalogue over there, in case you need it.”

“That’s wonderful! Would it be okay if I asked for your help again?”

“Absolutely! It would be my pleasure.”

 

A wave of something -Erik refused to recognize- surged through him. _Oh?_ So now Charles called everyone his _love_ or _darling_? Does that mean Erik wasn’t … any different for him? Would spending time with someone like Moira really be a _pleasure_ to Charles?

Then why was Erik wasting his time? Fine! Charles had time for everyone, but him. Charles would be _pleased_ to spend time with everyone. Erik wasn’t anything special, was he?

Charles came around the shelf, oblivious to Erik’s mood.

“There you are, Erik!” he said, smiling. Was this a plastic smile, reserved for everyone? “Come, lets go back and finish our work before the professor checks on us.” He walked past Erik, still unaware of the taller male’s anger.

Erik didn’t utter a single word till they were finished. He even avoided Charles as much as he could. Finally Charles noticed something was wrong.

“Is everything all right, darling?” He asked, concerned. Or was he _really_ concerned? The word _darling_ spiked off something in Erik.

“Sure is. Why don’t you ask Moira,” Erik muttered.

“What?” Charles asked, eyes going wide. He walked closer, placing one hand on Erik’s shoulder. Erik twisted away, eyes gleaming with anger…and something he couldn’t explain.

“Just-Just stay away from me, okay Charles?” Erik snapped. He didn’t want this. (Of course he wanted Charles, but not this Charles.) He didn’t want this pretense. He didn’t want to be just another _darling_ to Charles.

He wanted his old Charles back.


	8. Chapter 8

“If what you said really happened, Charles,” Raven said, scrunching up her leather jacket at the elbows, putting a grim look on as she looked into the mirror. “I think I know what’s wrong.”

“You’ve said that already. That’s why I’m sitting here again, remember?” Charles turned to her, but Rose, Emma’s hairstylist, turned his head back to the mirror again. “Sorry,” he whispered, looking into his mirror, and Rose nodded, going back to focus on the loose locks that set free.

He came back home that day after the library, head hung, and not hungry. On asking, he explained everything he could to Raven. She must’ve chatted with Emma on the phone, because in an hour, Frost came in, claiming that the girls knew what was wrong with Erik.

And if Charles wanted to know, he’d have to obey their one last command.

And the command was this, Charles thought, sitting in front of the mirror as Ben fitted the waist coat. Charles also realized that he must have a death wish, because who the _hell_ agreed to Emma Frost’s conditions without actually listening to them?

 _You let us pick your Annual Dance costume, okay?_ Raven had asked innocently, and Charles nodded, still frustrated as to why the girls had figured out what was wrong, and not him. They had already changed his attire once, and everyone (even Erik) had seemed to like it, so it couldn’t be any worse, right?

It has been two weeks and three days since that incident, and Charles still hadn’t received any answers. He didn’t see Erik as much as he wanted to. They didn’t meet in the lunch room, or in the classrooms. They didn’t even walk into each other in the corridors anymore. It was as if Erik was deliberately ignoring him. But that wasn’t possible, right? Erik wouldn’t do that. Right?

Every time he tried talking to him, either Erik avoided him, or slipped away, or got busy with his friends. And then there were times when people crowded Charles himself, his so many new _friends_ , all asking him to hang out with them; go to the movies, or the new café, girls asking for help with homeworks and lessons. And Charles couldn’t refuse them, even if he tried to. They just…sort of self-imposed themselves on him, and he was _too polite to refuse_ , as Raven said.

The most common topic of approach was, of course, the Dance. Charles had at least a dozen people, both boys and girls, asking him to the dance. (Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way round with the girls?) But he had politely refused them all. It was just a stupid, irrational corner in his heart, which believed that somewhy…one way or the other, Erik would ask him.

Erik didn’t, though. It was disappointing, yes, but it was expecting too much, wasn’t it? Erik probably didn’t even like him, he was just being cool with the new Charles, like everyone else was, right? Of course. But then, he must’ve realized how boring and awkward Charles really was, in spite of his outer hipster-ness.

Charles sighed. It _was_ expecting too much. But he really wanted to know _why_ Erik had reacted like that, that day, and Raven and Emma claimed to have the answer. Charles desperately wanted to know, and that was the only reason he allowed himself to be dragged to the prom. He didn’t want to go, really, to a place full of people, where he’d have to act _social_ again. But you _don’t_ say no to Emma Frost, trust him. It was an unwritten law in the memory of times. Just like you don’t trust Raven Darkholm. Just like you bow down and fall to your knees in front of Erik Lehnsherr.

_Erik._

Charles sighed again.

Rose was done with the hair and she looked at him as Ben put the final pins in his vest, tightening it till Charles was sure he’d discovered second skin.

“Relax sweetheart,” Emma said, putting final touch ups to her gown. She was dressed as the White Witch from that movie that just came out… ‘Oz, the _-something-_ and powerful’, was it? Charles wasn’t a big fan of movies or comics; he read books. But he’d decided to learn about what his friends were dressing up as. (Keep your enemies close, they said. So he had to know things about Emma and Raven, right?) She had a gorgeous white and blue gown on, complemented with glitter, faux fur, a tiara and even a gown. Charles was sure Emma was born to be the White Witch; she looked so perfect, all celestial and other-worldly.

Raven on the other hand, was dressed up as Katniss Everdeen from the Hunger Games.

“What!” She had said the day she had announced her costume, “people say that I look like her, okay?”

Sure, maybe Raven had the same eyes, but Charles couldn’t find anything similar back then. Now though, with brunette hair braided to her side, green and black leather; jacket and boots and belts, decked with her quiver and bow, she sure reminded him of Katniss. Raven had even ordered the mocking jay pin, clipped to her collar now, the golden metal shining in the lights of the dressing room of the Xavier mansion.

“Erik was jealous, okay?” Emma said, as Andrea from the grooming team put on blue eyeliner to her pale skin.

“What!” Charles exclaimed. “Oh,” he sat back as Sam pushed him down for make-up. Gosh, did  he really have to put make up? “I uh…didn’t know that Erik liked Moira?”

Emma looked at him as if Charles had just suggested that the earth was flat.

“What?” He asked, refusing to put on the lip color when Sam intended to.

“Charles!” Raven said, letting Ben adjust her quiver. “He wanted _you,_ you dollophead! Not Moira!”

Charles formed a silent ‘O’, still not convinced. Erik wanted _him_? Why didn’t he say so?

“Probably because you didn’t let him speak,” Emma answered, and if Charles didn’t know her, he’d be sure that she was a telepath.

“Oh,” Charles said again. Really, could that happen?

“Yes, Charles,” Raven said this time. (Was it really that obvious, or was Emma’s telepathy rubbing off on raven?) “What is actually unbelievable is the fact that you’re going alone, even if half the school asked you out for the dance.”

“It wasn’t half the school,” Charles protested. “And I don’t really want to go, you know?”

“But you promised,” Emma reminded icily, and for a second, Charles believed she was actually enchanting him. He nodded, dejected.

The girls had their dates picking them up. Azazel was dressed as the Devil, all red-skinned, and hair smoothed back, even a red, forked, electronic tail, moving about him like a cat’s. Shaw on the other hand, was dressed in a military costume, probably a French commander from the sixteenth century perhaps. But Charles was sure Shaw too, was made for the role. He had a commanding presence, and an aura of evil around him, that matched his attire.

Or maybe, Charles was getting paranoid. He tended to, when really nervous. He refused to go down to click pictures for the same reason, and watched them from the balcony, out of their sight. Also, Shaw had asked him out as well, though Charles wasn’t sure whether he was serious or not. So he’d planned to stay away from Sebastian Shaw as much as he could.

“My  lady,” Shaw said, halting stiffly and bowing, just like the commander he was playing.

“Order _me_ , commander,” Emma winked, taking his hand as they headed out.

Raven and Azazel were still posing for the camera, both highly photo-genic and proud.

“Never knew you had it in you, arrow-girl,” Azazel said, waving his tail.

“Shut up or I’ll arrow your tail into your ass,” Raven said, laughing grimly, probably character bleeding. They laughed too, as they headed out, leaving Charles alone with the grooming team.

They didn’t scare him now. Much.

“I don’t want to go, I look ridiculous!” Charles exclaimed.

“Well, seriously speaking, Sir, I really wished I had a Professor like that when I was in High School,” Andrea said, handing him the ruler-stick thingy. Even though Charles had protested with all his might, the girls had decided to dress him up as the s _exy professor_.

“ _What?_ No!” He had said, horrified at the very name.

“But Charles, think about it!” Raven had said, putting an arm around his shoulders. “You want to be a professor when you grow up, right?”

Charles had nodded weakly, not liking where this idea was progressing.

“And the headmaster did say you dress up as someone you want to be…right?” Raven asked again, her face devoid of any emotions.

Charles nodded, but then he asked, “Does Emma really want to be a Witch?”

“Suits me, doesn’t it, honey?” Emma asked calmly, and Charles looked away.

“Woah! Imagine the names!” Raven exclaimed suddenly, eyes lighting up. “Mr Made-for-me? Teacher Turn-Me-On? Sir Sleep-with-me? Doctor Do-me? Professor Sexy?”

“Professor X!” Emma suggested, before Raven could conjure any other pornographic names and that was it. No backing up now.

So Emma’s team had dressed him up as the professor (he hoped he never grew up to be). His hair was tied back loosely in a pony, loose locks kissing his face every now and then. The lens were replaced (thank God!) and he was wearing frameless specs, _that brought out the blue of his eyes,_ as Andrea had said. Ben had a perfectly tailored suit for him, the shirt rolled up to the elbows, and vest, as mentioned before, tight enough to be a second skin. The trousers were tight in places they were _not_ supposed to be. All his dark and mature colored clothes were complemented with shiny shoes and the matching ruler thing in his hand.

Andrea sighed dramatically, and Rose joined in.

“Oh, _Professor X_ , punish me, would you? I’ve been very naughty last night,” Rose said, blinking innocently, slurring her voice.

“Rose!” Charles exclaimed, blushing furious shades of magenta.

“Oooh, is that ruler for spanking me, _Professor X_?” Ben asked, voice flirty, one of his eyebrows dancing, edging closer.

“Ben! You of all people-!” Charles said, walking back till his knees hit the chair and he sank down on the plush chair.

“Wont you give us detention, _Professor_ , ask us to stay after class?” Suzy asked, venturing very close, almost sitting on his lap.

“Guys, stop it! This is not funny anymore!” Charles squawked, and the whole room burst out laughing.

“Relax Sir, we won’t destroy the costume,” Ben said, regaining composure as he wiped a tear of mirth.

“Yeah,” Andrea said, still smiling, “that much we can leave up to Erik, right?” She asked, wriggling her eyebrows.

Charles blushed and helplessly looked at Suzy, who winked back.

This was not a good idea. He knew it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of fluff!

“Do you think this’ll work?” Raven asked.

“Ah, sweetheart. Has any of my plans ever gone astray?” Emma asked.

 

* * *

 

_Remember Charles, be confident._ Erik would like that. Charles mustered up his courage once more as he crossed the threshold of the school gates. Ignoring all heads that turned to him, he tried searching for the blue-grey eyes he wanted to see.

After that half-conversation with Emma and Raven, Charles had made up his mind. He’d confront Erik. And try not to faint, for that matter. If Erik liked this new version of his, he’d try to be content with it. Of course it hurt Charles; this was not who he was. He didn’t want to pretend.

But he wanted Erik. And if that meant thrusting lens into his eyes and wearing jeans and jackets, and calling everyone ‘darling’ and ‘sweetheart’, he would do it.

“Oh, Hi, Charles!” said a female voice as a group of girls approached him. He recognized the Marilyn Monroe as Stacey…maybe.

“Hello, love,” he decided not to take any risks by taking names.

“You came alone?” asked a Jennifer Lopez, but he wasn’t sure. Was it Mia or Melissa?

He feigned a sigh. “Couldn’t choose between you lovely ladies,” he smiled, shrugging.

The girls giggled, and then said something he didn’t pay attention to. He shortly excused himself when he saw Sean (?) dressed as the Mad Hatter, his red hair painted bright orange to complement his clothes. Sean knew everything about everyone, so…he must’ve seen Erik, right?

The answer was in negative, and Charles sighed mentally, struggling to maintain his composure.

His courage was running out, didn’t Erik understand?

He was sulking around the drinks table when someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned to face Angel, who was literally dressed like an angel. Just not the “halos and white wings” type. The dark, emo type, with laces, and torn feathers, and dark make up. And yet, she looked gorgeous.

“Hello, Angel,” he said. “Living up to your name?”

What? He couldn’t help himself.

“Charles, you need to be in the parking lot,” she said, ignoring his dumb question. She barely gave Charles the time to frown before she turned on her heels and walked away. Before he could follow, she disappeared in the crowd that was moving with the music. Some Dance this was.

Parking lot? Why would _Angel_ of all people want him in the parking lot? Well, he didn’t have anything better to do here, amidst the paper streamers and disco ball hanging in the middle of the gymnasium, people dancing to songs he didn’t even recognize.

He slowly shuffled outside, taking his time searching the crowds for Erik. He finally stepped into the parking lot, empty and cold. Since everyone was inside, happy and busy, and _not_ moping, like Charles.

“Hello?” he called out to the vacancy.

“Took you long,” a voice called out from the farthest corner. Between the music floating from the building, the chilly winds and the distance between them, Charles still recognized the voice.

“Erik?” he asked the silhouette against the headlights of a car, walking towards him. Of course! Angel was one of Erik’s friends, wasn’t she?

The shadow shifted forward into the light, revealing Erik standing sheepishly with his hands shoved into his pockets. It was what he was wearing though, which caught Charles’ eyes.

Erik was wearing an oversized sweater, and baggy cargos, his shirt and tie visible beneath the deep V of his sweater. It was the big thick-nerdy glasses that sparked off the realization in Charles’ head.

“You’re dressed…like me?” He asked. Well, a Calvin-Klein-version of Charles, with his oversized beanie and sleeves pushed up to the elbows, exposing his arms (dear _God!_ ), and the frames just focusing on how _smoldering_ his eyes were. But his sheepiness in the costume was exactly what reminded Charles…of himself. “Why?”

“I was not going anywhere with words,” Erik admitted, stepping forward. “I thought…to show you would be the best way, y’know. To let you know.”

Charles’ heart was hammering in his chest, and he just stood there, transfixed. “L-let me know…what?” He stammered, back as the old Charles again. He slowly moved back, till the back of his legs hit something. It was one of the cars, he turned and saw.

Erik took a deep breath. Woah! And exactly _when_ did he step into Charles’ personal space? “Look Charles…I uh, I-” he scratched his head through his beanie. “I like you.”

Erik walked to Charles, till they were literally breaths apart. “I really, _really_ like you.” He raised one hand to gingerly caress it along Charles’ face. “And it’s not because of those lens,” he whispered, pulling off Charles’ glasses and placing it on the bonnet of the car Charles was leaning against.

“It’s not because you changed your hairstyle,” he said, the other hand sneaking into Charles’ hair. He pulled open his hair, and rested their foreheads together.

“It’s not because of the clothes you are wearing,” he said and his hands ran down the silken vest. Charles’ eyes fluttered close at the contact, skin going hot and flush.

“It’s not because you called me ‘darling’ or ‘love’,” he said, placing his fingers under Charles’ chin, thumb running over those _obscenely_ red lips, the other hand holding down Charles at the hip.

Erik leaned away, thumb moving down to hold up Charles’ chin. “It’s because of the way you stammer. And the way you trip over nothing.”

“It’s because of the way you babble when you’re nervous, and the way you push up your glasses as they slip down your nose when you’re concentrating too hard.”

“It’s because you always walk into me. It’s because of the thick books you read and carry around like your soul. The one you dropped on my feet. It’s because you always flush when you talk with me.”

Charles’ eyes snapped open, but Erik didn’t stop. Charles felt hot breath ghosting over his lips.

“It’s because your eyes are ridiculously blue. And you don’t know how to walk. Or talk. And I fell for that. I fell for your smile, smiling like you figured out the biggest secrets of life. I fell for your big sweaters and Oxford-manners.” Erik’s palms moved to framed Charles’ face.

“I fell for you, Charles, long before you changed your looks,” he whispered, before leaning forward to kiss Charles.

Erik was all that Charles had always imagined. And more. His lips were soft, even though they were chapped, just like he was lean and strong. All carved, his chest was, beneath the sweater that Charles had fisted his hands into as he kissed back. Erik tasted like coffee, and spicy, and minty. And something else that Charles figured must be _Erik._ He tasted like the oceans, and the winds, and well, Charles was never much of a poet.

Erik’s hands left Charles’ face and moved down. And then Charles was lifted up, onto the hood of the car, without even breaking the kiss. He gasped, surprised, and that was the opportunity Erik needed, his tongue licking those red, _red_ lips before skirting past them, and into Charles’ mouth. He pulled Erik closer, raising his legs to wrap them around Erik’s waist, while the taller male worshipped Charles with his tongue.

When they pulled back, Erik saw Charles all messed up, his lips even redder (if that was possible), and hair all disheveled, skin going pink and highlighting his freckles in the light, and he was panting and breathing hard…and crying? Erik stopped dead in his tracks.

“Charles? Did I do something wrong?” He asked, jerking back.

Charles shook his head, wiping the tear that raced down. “No. It was me. I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice rough. “All this time…”

Erik wanted him. Not his looks. How did he not understand? And Erik was dressed up like _him w_ hen the headmaster said dress up like the person you admire. His heart was overflowing with emotions. No one had ever paid so much attention to him. He had never receivedso much affection from anyone.

“All this time,” Charles said again. “And I didn’t see-”

Erik didn’t let him finish. He pressed another kiss onto his lips, muffling whatever Charles was about to say. The truth was…it took Erik some time to figure out himself. That, and a lecture from Emma Frost regarding _someone’s_ dismembered testicles if they didn’t clear up their minds.

He pulled back, smiling. “Let’s dance,” he suggested at the soft music floating out from the gym, trying to distract Charles and cheer him up.

“I don’t-cant?” Charles tried, but Erik was pulling him into the lights of the parking lot.

“I can’t, either,” Erik said as he put Charles’ hand on his shoulder, his own slipping down to the shorter man’s waist. The street lamps in the vacant lot acted like spotlights in their private dance. They shuffled around, stepping in the same direction, and stepping onto each other, until they both were laughing, and Charles’ breathing had calmed down.

“Let’s go inside?” Erik asked when the song finished, pressing yet one more kiss to Charles’ lips.

“What? Me…looking like this?” Charles asked, hands motioning at his messed hair and red eyes, blush still prominent.

“Yes, you, looking like you’re _mine_ ,” Erik said, turning Charles to tie his hair back again.

“Besides,” Erik said when he was done. “You look like you just had an _after school special_ , with your favorite student, _Professor_. Don’t I look like that perfect student for you?

“What, Erik! Not you too!” Charles huffed. “And…I wouldn’t do that…it would be against the rules, y’know?”

“I always had a kink for rule breaking and sexy professors,” Erik said, voice suddenly dipping low. “And I know you won’t resist me, because I know I look good. It’s _my_ kinda look,” he finished, offering a hand to Charles.

“And you’ve never looked more beautiful, darling,” Charles said, taking his hand as he picked up his glasses.

 

* * *

 

“Well, this is going on Youtube,” Raven said, pressing the _Stop_ button on her phone’s camera. “ _Professor X: after school special_ s,” she giggled at her blackmail material. Raven walked out from behind the tree, picking out a few leaves from her jacket.

“Told you it’d work, didn’t I, arrow-girl?” Emma asked, coming from behind the other tree.

“Emma…” Raven asked, hesitatingly. “Are you really a Witch?”

“And I was thinking no one would ever find out,” she smiled, eyes glinting. “Come, let’s go inside. I’m starving.”


End file.
